The Future
by missnattyc
Summary: Formula One racing/Twilight crossover. Edward Cullen and Jasper Whitlock have been racing against each other on track for years...now Edward considers the future of their relationship as Jasper announces his retirement from the world of racing. SLASH-fic


**Edward Cullen is a twenty eight year old Formula One driver from Chicago; one of his main rival on-track just happens to be his lover off-track. Jasper Whitlock, the laid back, cheeky Texan gentleman has decided to retire from the world of Formula One racing, at thirty six years old he's decided to leave it to the 'young-pups'. This is a one-shot based on the picture of two formula One drivers at a press conference from a few years ago. I just changed them to Edward/Jasper.**

**SM Owns Twilight, Raceward and Driveper are figments of my imagination.**

EPOV

I sit in the near darkness, watching over you as you sleep, a million thoughts buzzing through my mind, preoccupying me when we both need to be so focused, it's the weekend of our home Grand Prix and the last time we'll ever race at this circuit together. All I can think about is this afternoon's press conference and the news that you are going to impart upon the world around us.

Only now does it feel like a reality, only now do I fully realise that the news you told me all those months ago is going to come true sooner than I would have ever dreamed of, than I ever dared dream that it would.

Confusion clogs my mind as I drop my head into my hands, running my fingers though my unruly mane as I watch you sleep, blonde stubble covering your strong jaw and specks of white becoming more and more apparent in you luscious curls with each passing day, days that pass quicker than ever as I count them down in my mind. I know this decision is perhaps the hardest one you've ever had to make, and I know that it's been playing on your mind ever since you mentioned retiring, but still I can't help but think that perhaps you'll change your mind and stay, stay with the team, and more selfishly, stay with me.

You're leaving, and we both know that's the one thing that will happen with the end of this season, but what I really want to know is, will this also be the end of us, and over four years of being together?

I remember our first night together, or more specifically when our relationship changed from mutual respect and friendship into something deeper and more meaningful, the evening of my first podium, in Malaysia, and how drunken staggering through the hotel corridors lead to blind groping and sloppy, timid, messy kisses; that's the first time I ever looked at you as something more, more than a friend and counterpart, as I looked at you through drunken eyes only then did I see the beauty and splendour that emits from every fibre of your being.

I remember waking in your strong arms, as you held me close, blue orbs of warmth and love staring back at me as I slowly woke from sleep, a soft kiss pressed to my temple as you bid me good morning and yet another 'congratulations' for my long awaited first time on the rostrum.

I remember the shyness that washed over me in a instance as we lain together, soft warm bed sheets covering my boxer-brief clad form as you held me and softly kissed my nose, cheeks and finally my lips, unspoken words in the air as we stared our relationship, silently telling the other that we wanted to take things slowly and make whatever we had and still have work for the long term, although, back then I could have never comprehended that four years later I would still love you as much as I did then, if not more now than ever before.

And now I sit here, alone with my thoughts as I consider what impact your decision will have upon us and our future or even if we have a future together anymore; will you leaving the sport mean the end of us? Or will we be able to cope with the time apart and the stresses and strains that come with our already too frequent absences? Will you still want to be with me in the same way that I want to be with you?

The reality of it is that I don't know anymore, I always thought that somehow we would be together and nothing else matters, but now, as that time draws ever closer, I'm not sure what to think anymore, in fact I've been thinking of it so much recently that it's driving me to insanity; I know the only way to put my mind at rest is to ask you, is to talk about our future, but truthfully I'm scared, scared that your leaving will mean the end for us and it's an end that I never want to come.

"Come back to bed, darlin'." Your southern drawl rings through the silent air as it disturbs me from my daydream, sleepy blue eyes struggling to stay open as you check the time on the clock, we both know it's far too early to even think of being awake, but I haven't been able to sleep properly for weeks, knowing what is to happen later this afternoon.

"We don't have to be up for another three hours." I climb back under the duvet as you pull it back, eyes skittering over the toned and tanned muscle of your stomach as you shiver slightly in the cool morning air, before settling into your arms and kissing you deeply, trying to display my love for you as sleep fogs your brain, turning away and pretending to sleep as your worried expression meets my gaze, I don't want to talk about this today, I'm not strong enough yet.

The press conference is light hearted and full of banter as questions are fired at us, everyone making light comments and remarks about your decision to retire and leave the sport we all love so much, I put on a fake smile and laugh at his jokes as I sneak glances at him, fully aware that this is the first of many last times will share before you leave in Brazil, wanting to confirm every second of it to memory, something to treasure in years to come as we start on the long, and I suspect bumpy road until the end of the season when I will still be a contracted driver and him an 'advisor' for the team he's spent so much time and effort in, making them the emerging force and ever improving team that they now are.

Smiling and joking are something that has become more and more of an effort throughout the past few weeks, the façade of normality and normality wearing thin upon me and those around me as I brood silently in my own pity and self loathing; I wish I were strong enough to ask and talk about our future, but all I can do is cling onto our present and what we have to look forward to for the rest of the year.

You're so close to me, and all I want to do is take you into my arms and declare my love for you and the relationship we have nurtured and cultivated in secret for so long, the feel of your arm around my waist and fingertips dipping into the back pocket of my jeans feels so normal and natural that for a split second in time I lose myself and turn my face towards yours, lips pressing against the stubbly skin of your cheek as everyone looks on in surprise, wondering if there is perhaps something more bubbling under the surface of our relationship. You freeze for a moment, a look of horror flashing across your features, until your mouth breaks out into a broad grin and a gruff laugh, everyone around us relaxing as I flush slightly, your strong fingers digging into the flesh of my buttocks as alarm bells ring in my mind, dropping all physical contact from one another as we fall back into our well rehearsed roles of friends and competitors, roles we have filled so well and for so long.

"What was that scene in the press conference for earlier?" I shrug my shoulders as your voice raises a few octaves, disbelief and shock evident in the Texan tones as you pace the room in front of me, muttering and cursing under your breath as I sit with my head dropped, silently watching as your feet stride past me, back and forth, back and forth, it's almost hypnotic, until they come to an abrupt halt.

My eyes slowly travel up your jean covered legs, over the shining buckle of your belt and the dark material of your t-shirt, before coming to rest upon your stressed and tense face, suspicious eyes and drawn lines around your mouth staring back at me as I slink further back into my seat, sighing deeply and throwing my head back as I groan aloud, my stupid split-second action has been running through my mind ever since it happened, and you haven't talked to me ever since, shutting me out completely as you throw yourself into press commitments and interviews, explaining your decision to retire over and over again.

"Well Edward, do you care to explain what that little episode was about earlier?"

"No, Jasper, I don't want to explain, you'll only laugh at me." You sigh deeply, before slipping into the seat next to me, and dropping a kiss onto my temple as your fingers work at the tense muscles of my neck, trying to coax an answer out of me, even if it kills you.

"I'd never laugh at you, baby." Is whispered into my ear as you drops kisses along my neck, I need to tell you, if I don't now I never will.

"I'm scared…I'm scared that when you leave, you'll leave me too…" Your scoff, making me tense instantly as the sound is barely heard above the hubbub of a Grand Prix weekend, my stony face meeting your relaxed one as a small smile crosses your lips; I'm glad you find this funny, because I certainly don't.

"I'm leaving the sport, the team…but I'm not leaving you, I'd never leave you love…is this why you haven't been sleeping or eating properly?" I nod, an embarrassed reddening covering my cheeks as you runs his thumbs along the line of my jaw, forcing me to look you in the eye as you kiss me softly, resting my head upon your chest as your fingers circle in the soft growth of hair at my nape; words of reassurance and love falling from your lips as I relax, feeling more at ease and contented than I have in months.

"I love you Edward Cullen, and I promise we'll get through this, it's going to be tough…but we'll get there."

"I love you." You smile at me as our lips meet, all my doubts and fears skidding off into the barriers as I lose myself in the moment, I'm determined to make this work, and now I know you are as well, my worries can finally be put to rest.


End file.
